The Order
by pyrobynature1929
Summary: A secret order has the duty to keep the scales of good and evil perfectly balanced. Any person, good or evil, who attempts to tip the scales must be persuaded otherwise. There is an agent of the order who is especially good at his job. Why are his skills so great? Is he closely monitored by some benevolent deity who blesses his every step, or is it something much more sinister?


**THE ORDER**

**CHAPTER I: NIGHT OF REFLECTION**

The town of Marehollow is a small gathering of huts located eighty miles west of the Violent Sea, an ever-ferocious body of water that wraps half around the world. Marehollow is not a bustling metropolis by any meaning of the word. It is a small hamlet where everyone knows the goings on of each other. If someone is planning on planting a new crop, everyone knows. If someone is having an affair with the neighbor's daughter, everyone knows, except for the father who is in denial of such an act. The only strangers to the town are the folk that stay at the Lazy Lemure, the local tavern, on their way to the port cities on the coast. The sounds of the town are that of any small town in the region: sounds of farmers motivating their horses to move the plough, housewives making gossip in the streets, children laughing while playing knights, hammers meeting anvils, axes meeting trees, hammers meeting nails, and other various noises.

This day was like all the rest. As the sun set behind the Ravencliff Hills, a small mountain range to the east of Marehollow, the women tended to the children while the men headed to the Lazy Lemure for a small meal and a large amount of ale. Inside the tavern, barmaids weaved through the pipe smoke in and out of tables, tending to their patrons. Hearty laughs bellowed from men drowning away their day's labors. A flamboyantly clad man with a lute was playing and singing tales of brave knights fighting dragons, and rescuing villages from the imminent destruction that usually followed these scaled horrors. Few travelers, to include the bard, were keeping rooms at the tavern, which was not uncommon because of the cold season moving swiftly upon country.

A tall, athletic man sat in the shadows in the far corner of the great room. No one recognized him, and he paid the barkeep well to be left alone. He only gave his name as "Stranger", and paid in silver pieces that have never been seen in this town. But silver is rare among the townsfolk's usual coin of copper or trade, therefore eagerly accepted. Stranger was a mysterious and guarded traveler to the men of Marehollow, but every once in a while, travelers like him come through. As Stranger drained what was left in his tankard, he moved almost cat-like around the perimeter of the room to the bar that ran the length of the wall to the west of the two great oak doors which led out into the streets. He signaled the barkeep over.

"Another tankard Stranger? Or perhaps some supper for the night?" asked the middle aged man. He had half-moon glasses that constantly slid down his crooked nose. His bent posture and rough hands spoke of years of farming work. One could wonder how this frail, broken looking man could ever hold his own if a patron got a little unruly.

"No Sir." Stranger's voice was gruff, and he spoke sharply, with the hint of an accent the barkeep could not quite place. His language spoke of intelligence which far outdistanced him from the locals. "I would, however, like a room for the night. Do you have any…. private rooms… available. I will pay double the rate for one. Triple if it is one away from any possible… disturbances."

"Ahhh, I have just the room." The barkeep whispered with a wink. He led Stranger through the kitchen and down some stairs to a dimly lit corridor with a door at the end. However, the barkeep stopped halfway down and pushed on the wall to the left. He said "My pappy built this room into the storage access many years ago, before I was even a twinkle in his one good eye. This was during the Troll Wars. If any of those vile behemoths decided to come down and raid our village, him and me mum were to hide in here. He used to say no one, save a dwarf, would even be able to tell this was here." With these words the barkeep opened the secret door letting the light from his lantern wash over the cob-webbed room. A simple bed and washbasin sat covered in dust in the small room which was devoid of any windows or doors. He hobbled over and lit a small, unused candle near the wash basin. "As you can see, he was fortunate enough that he didn't have to use it. I can have one o' me barmaids come down and clean it up for you if you'd like."

"That is not necessary good Sir. In fact I would prefer for no one, save you, to know I was down here." Stranger handed the barkeep two heavy gold coins. "One is for the room, and one is for your discretion." With a nod and a smile the barkeep took the coins and bowed out of the room shutting the hidden door behind him.

Stranger dusted off what little furniture was in the room and sat at the edge of the bed. He took off his boots and stripped down to just his breeches. He emptied a water skin into the basin and washed the road from his face. Then he dressed in the same traveler garb he had and put his boots back on. He dumped his pack out on to the bed and took inventory of the belongings: one pair of black breeches, one black shirt, one black cowl, one black belt, two water skins, one wine skin, a tenday worth of trail rations, fifty feet of silk rope, a small black book, ink and quill, 25 crossbow bolts , vials of various liquids, a hand crossbow, a curved dagger, a garrote wire, a silver and gold necklace with some kind of symbol, and a set of tools, common used by The Guild. After his inventory he packed everything back inside. "I need to get a sword," he muttered to himself, "just in case." He laid down the bed and shut his eyes. "I'll stop by the blacksmith in the morning and see if he has any. Doubtful they will be very good, but it is worth a shot." With that Stranger drifted off into light sleep. Stranger never sleeps too heavy. He has seen to many horrible thing to sleep too deep. With his sleep came dreams like usual. Unlike his normal dreams this one did not include any of the terrors he had seen:

"Vargos, take your place in front of the council." The chamber walls were eloquently clad in tapestries portraying men fighting what look like demons. Along one side of the room was an ivory horse shoe table, which sat on a raised portion of the floor. Five men, two dwarves, and two elves sat behind the table casting their judgmental gazes downward. One of the men sat at the center and motioned Vargos over in front of the table. Vargos, or Stranger, moved in front of the table. He was dressed in his black outfit, with the cowl laid back and the necklace hanging out in front. The same symbol was imprinted on the floor and at the top of each tapestry. Everyone on the council had matching necklaces.

Vargos took a knee and bowed his head. "I await your orders chancellor." With that the chancellor stood and said "Vargos, ever since your acceptance to the order, you have proven yourself capable of more difficult assignments. Appropriately, we have a difficult assignment for you. We have heard rumors of dark deeds being conducted on one of the trade routes from the Violent Sea. We want you to investigate. Once you figure out what is happening, you will message us and await further instructions."

"What exactly are these dark deeds?" Vargos asked.

"It seems a cult has emerged and has been dealing in…..people, specifically children. They tend to target small communities. Then, when all of the children are gone, the townspeople are destroyed. Well, most of them. Some of them go missing. I fear they are being converted to the cult's cause. It is your job, Vargos, to hunt down this cult and eliminate it. Be warned though, it is rumored that the cult leader has direct commune with Bane himself."

With the last words echoing in his ears, Vargos shot up in bed. At first he was unaware of his whereabouts, then he remembered the crooked nosed barkeep. By the length of candle left, Vargos estimated that it was just before sunrise. It was always his custom to pray at sunrise. He felt that it symbolized the light he cast upon the darkness of his enemies. And the gods would like that. Vargos did not necessarily pray to any one deity alone. He prayed to Tyr, Helm, Lathander, and Tempus every morning, and any lesser deities in which he might need their guidance. Tyr and Helm he prayed to for justice and honor, Lathander he prayed to for the light, And Tempus to guide him should he see battle.

Vargos gathered his belongings and made his way up the stairs silently. He moved through the kitchen where the cook was hastily working the oven. The great room was already full, and loud. Standing on one of the tables in the center of the room was a short stout man with a huge beard. He looked as if he were trying to be a dwarf even though he was clearly just a really short man.

"We will organize search parties just like before. We will split every man we can spare into teams of three and search the town and outlying woods. No one is to go past Landsford Creek, is that understood?" A resounding "Hmmph!" as well as a good amount of head nods made it clear that everyone understood. "Well then move out! If anyone finds anything they are to bring it to the attention of Captain Ruthgar or myself immediately." The dwarf-man jumped down from the table, the sword at his side clanging against the floor as his knees bent.

Vargos walked over to the man, but knew the answer to his question before he even asked it. "What happened?"

"I am the village leader. Aryan Tallstream is me name. And this is Captain Ruthgar, leader of the town's militia. This is a town matter, are normally I wouldn't share this kind of information with a passer-through, but we are growing desperate. A little girl has gone missing. This is the third time this month a child has gone missing. We never find anything but their clothes washed up in the creek a couple of days after, covered in blood. No one knows what happened, and no one can really remember the last place they had seen them. It is strange indeed, but im afraid of the bigger consequences. If this keeps up, everyone will leave making Marehollow a ghost town. Worse yet, im afraid of the people seeking out some vigilante justice an either killing each other or hiring someone from outta town to do it for 'em." The little man looked truly worried. Whether or not he was worried for the children or for his potentially dwindling power within the town, Vargos could not tell.

"Well, I would offer up my services, but I fear I might just further your townsfolk's suspicions. Best I leave it alone." said Vargos in a half-truth. Vargos turned away from the two men and headed over to the bar for some breakfast. Actually, Vargos intended to investigate this matter very thoroughly. He just didn't want any locals knowing why exactly he was here, or who he worked for.


End file.
